Love Notes
by EarnestInBerlin
Summary: Fake. Lies.
1. Shuichi: Love

_Love is not always what we all want it to be. Love is picky and has its own mind. Love is a fair and foul game that can show the best of everything, sometimes of visions that we never ever want to see. It is a mover of big mountains and a thinker of great dreams. Love can pull us out of our deepest pits and can fix our broken wings. Love can open our eyes and make us see the morrow. It can remind us of that sad day when we all shall leave this mortal plane._

_We don't limit ourselves to think that love is all that I have said. Because love has too many meanings that one cannot generalize the whole significance of love on its own._

_In the end, love is like beauty._

_For beauty cannot be explained._

_It shines like the moon at the end of every day. It goes up to the sky with all the stars and hangs with a pretty smile on her face._

_Love is definite. But it is not._

_That is the reality of love._

Shuichi dropped his pencil and read what he done out loud

He smiled and left the room.

When he came back later, the paper was gone and all that was left was the pencil he used to write his literary piece.

**(SPACE HERE)**

"…Love is definite, but it is not"

He sat on his swivel chair and tried to deny the grin that crept up his face nonetheless.

"That is the reality of love"


	2. Yuki: Beauty

_What makes one beautiful? It is an age old question that has made the greatest of all scholar fall on his knees asking the god above for an answer. Until now, no one can give an end to that eternity of interrogation. A number of the world would lie to their own selves, telling each other that beauty is nothing but skin deep. Where true youth is in that kind wrinkle face, whose heart is plated in the color of gold. _

_But in the end, it is the coat of skin where beauty is measured._

_Tall aristocratic noses_

_Long necks _

_Bodies sculpted by the deities themselves_

_Straight long hair that shines of silky passion_

_No one would care if you are a loin heart or a selfish bastard, just as long as your face could make the cover of a teen magazine then you are beautiful._

His hands froze in midair as he heard a small thump.

Yuki stopped typing then scanned the sleeping boy beside him.

He seemed to have fallen off.

The blond's annoyed grunt was inevitable as he lifted himself from hi chair and went over to that dozing body.

Without much of a hassle he carried the boy in his arms, the one being carried snuggled up to his chest like a kitten.

_But the most beautiful of person that existed on earth are the ones who make you feel. They are the ones who make the mistakes in your life and they are the ones who dance like fools in the back. They do not have their faces plastered on some humungous billboards nor are they that well known, they are the ones that make you happy just by being alive. _

_It takes forever to find that person, but sometimes they are just there with you. Maybe sitting right beside you and you never noticed at all._

_Beauty should never be left to face value. _

_Never at all._

_In the end, we'll all lose beauty to age._

Yuki kissed Shuichi's forehead and covered him up.

_But we will never lose the one we love._


	3. Shuichi: Sweets

_Shuichi turns on the light and proceeds to the refrigerator._

_There he opens and sees an assortment of things that should be found inside a refrigerator. In the corner, always in that corner, is a pack of beer tied together with that 'white plastic thing', thus named because the pop star's brain can't spit out any other formal title._

_He stares at the sweets that he managed to sneak in. There was a small box just reserved to be their temporary home before Shuichi would come with a sugar high and devour the entire pack._

_The other day, that box was full to the brim with jelly sticks poking out and trails of gum balls in plastic littering the top. _

_But now, all that was left were a piece of chocolate bar, a box of pocky and two colorfully wrapped candy balls. One was strawberry and the other orange, Shuichi noticed. _

_He sighed as he pulled out the box from the refrigerator; he's going to restock tomorrow. _

I love chocolates because they make me happy. It makes me smile and it makes me want more. Yuki is like a chocolate bar, though his features would rather land him as a piece of hard candy instead. To me Yuki is like chocolate, that solid bitter one. It would taste really, really icky but if you let it melt in your mouth it would taste nice in the end. Yuki is like that chocolate.

I also like pocky, but I don't think it will ever replace my love for chocolates. They're so thin, they don't last long in your mouth the same way chocolate does- especially when they're thick, god they taste really good. But pocky is small; it goes to pieces in your mouth after your first bite, though it does get brownie points for being long. Sometimes Yuki is like pocky too. His temper is really thin, and he gets mad at me if ever I make too much noise in the living room or I disturb him in his study.

I like hard candy, but they just stay in the same place as pocky. Though they take forever in your mouth to melt, you really can't do anything with them. You just roll them in you mouth, playing ball with your tongue and coating it with your saliva. Since it takes eternity just for the sweetie to melt in your mouth, you sometimes get bored with playing hockey. Yuki is like hard candy too. Everyone knows how cruel and mean he is, so they tend to give up on the first trial of getting to know Yuki. But I never did and never will. You should really be patient with hard candy. And it takes a lot of patience just getting to know Yuki.

Don't give up; it will melt in the end. You know that, everyone knows that.

_And as he threw the chocolate wrapper, and it failed to dunk inside the can, Shuichi can't help but wonder where on earth did those caramels he carefully hidden went. _


	4. Yuki: Jealousy

I don't like it when you're not here at home with me. Even though we don't meet and you'd end up staying outside, all alone in the living room or in any room for that matter. I still know that you are there and not in the touch of danger's grasp. Or in the danger of falling in love with someone else. In the living room or in the kitchen, at least you are in a place where I know you're safe. Where no one might fool you into loving them and forgetting me.

Not outside where the world might chase you, make a fool out of you or your break your eternally smiling face. At least when you are in the many rooms of my house, I know that you are secure because you are just a few meters away from me.

I don't like it when you're at the studios with your troop. If I wasn't the bastard that I am, I would never let you talk to them. They might make you go against me, I sometimes fear that. I know I've been cruel and sometimes ungrateful to the love you give me, but I can't and will never be as vocal as you.

Did you know I am jealous at all the things that surround you? I am jealous of the ground that your feet kisses, the very ones that get to touch the soles of your feet. I am jealous of the microphone that listen everyday and night to your crooning voice. If I wasn't the bastard that I am right now, I would never let you get out of this house.

I'll keep you here, because I don't want anyone to take you away from me.

I am just a mere writer that inks down illusions of love in fairy tale worlds. But you, we live in two different worlds, my love, you sing. You have a voice that could call out to the very depths of the soul. You use that voice of yours to open up hearts without the use of a scalpel, to reach out and to slap away at the dark clouds we manage to obscure ourselves with.

I am nothing but a writer.

You are the soloist of my dreams.

Did you know, when you sleep I watch the way your body moves and how your clothes hug your skinny frame? I can't help but be jealous of the clothes your wear too. Even the fabric, do you know why I never let you wear pants in the house or extremely long sleeved shirts? Most people would think how perverted of Yuki Eiri. Let them think that- though it may sound a bit true.

But it was never like that- well, it was like that at first and now and then- because I get jealous of the cloth that hugs your skin. I get jealous of the socks that smooches your feet or sometimes of the shoes that you wear. Maybe I should get you flip flops instead. Maybe I should let you walk bare feet. Or maybe I should just lock you up.

I know I'm going crazy, but it's all thanks to you.

You think I don't care but I get delirious when I see you with other people. I don't like it when you touch the skin of another even if it was just a mere brush, an accident that occurs every day in our ever repeating lives. But don't you know the magic that is instilled in your fingertips? In your every caress, a mystique spell is cast upon those who are fortunate enough as to even share the same are with you.

I get so jealous of everyone and everything around you, a spasm of pain would quake the very surface of my breaking heart.

God, I could go on forever with my list. There is that favorite cup of your with the double handle and the smiley face. Your lips kiss its opening everyday when you take a short sip or long mouthful of juice.

But I hear the door slam, your screaming voice bouncing in the air.

I delete what I wrote when I realize I typed everything down.

When you open the door to my study then jumped at me with such fervor and love, we go spinning in a corner with my swivel chair.

And I say, "What do you want, brat?"

And you say, "I love you"

And I know that nothing will take you away from me.

And that I should also stop my pathetic and crazy misunderstanding of the people (and things) that surrounds you.

Now, I'm starting to hate that box of pocky sticking out of your back pocket.


	5. Shuichi: Lyrics

"Life is like a box of chocolates, you'll never know what you get"

- Forrest Gump

Yuki just found it on top of their table, left there as if it was forgotten.

It was obviously lyrics, they were written in a fashion that said so.

He sighed and wondered what crap did the only 'lyricist' in this household has sprouted this time. The blond writer pulled up a chair and sat down. His eyes trained on what was supposed to be repeated words of love and devotion. He braced himself for another IQ dropper, his hand reaching out to the cookie jar in the middle of the table.

_Unorthodox Love_

_I want to touch your voice_

_My fingers would latch on to_

_The words that escape your tongue_

_Then they would study the carving_

_Of your words_

_My seeing fingertips would _

_Travel down the curves_

_Of the letters and of the sounds_

_That you used for those words_

_I want to hear your face_

_Listen with much vigor and intense_

_To the tapping of your lids_

_When they close and open like windows_

_In rainy nights _

_To cover your amber eyes_

_I'll let my attentive ear take_

_Every sound you make_

_Especially the ones_

_That doesn't come from your mouth_

_I want our noses to meet _

_In a sweet, chaste Eskimo kiss_

_It'll be like a battle of the tongue_

_The same thing we do when we french_

_But were not using the force of our lips_

_Like we always do_

_You'd find that unorthodox_

_But it's like what they say_

_About chocolate being wrapped _

_With a pretty red ribbon inside a box_

_But there is this one thing _

_That I really, really want to do_

_For ever_

_But I find my hand being slapped away_

_When they are a few inches _

_From the certain spot_

_You never let me touch_

_I wouldn't mind taking a peek_

_At that sweet dot down there_

_You know the one you never show anyone else_

_It's that tiny hole somewhere in the south_

_Where nobody gets to see that much_

_Well maybe except for me_

_It's such a sexy thing_

_That's why it's so forbidden_

_But I can't help and wonder_

_Why won't you let me touch it?_

_I can't help but wonder to _

_Myself in the middle of the day_

_That maybe there would come an occasion_

_If you wouldn't mind if I would sometimes leave _

_A couple of my fingers down there_

_To explore such a sacred thing_

_You're entrance that not even I have_

_Penetrated_

_Sometimes I catch myself _

_Wondering if you would_

_Find it weird if I play with it_

_(Of course_

_If you give me_

_The chance_

_Until then_

_I won't even dare let _

_My hungry digits roam that territory_

_Of yours if you don't want me to)_

_But I wonder why… _

_You really mind it that much…_

_When I touch it…_

_What is wrong with me…_

… _Playing with your belly button?_

Yuki let his mouth fall open. His eyes have been blinking non-stop from the start and even now to that eerie end. The writer had a half eaten cookie hanging by his mouth, and it fell to the ground and crumble away to pieces. He peeked at his navel between those peeking curtains of his white shirt.

He doesn't really like it when people touch that…

This is moronic.

He wasn't sure whether to call the person who made this a poetic genius or a retard that needs to be kicked back to kindergarten. But then the person who made this was sort of a retard to begin with.

He coughed; Shuichi shouldn't know that he read this.

He pushed the chair back and left the cookie on the floor littered. The boy will clean it up, and with that reassured thought he padded to his study room. There are some rules he should lay out when the kid comes back from work.


	6. Yuki: Sex

Sex and love

Just because you scream your lover's name while you touch yourself doesn't mean anything. It's just making masturbation look so fucking sentimental. Trying to give something so taboo and shameful of an act false face of good intetion and all that bull shit. Frankly, it's not, it's disgusting and it's plain pathetic.

Sex and love

Just because you can not hold it in anymore when you see that smiling face, and your penis starts to stand. There is nothing there- maybe semen dripping at the tip of your cock- but nothing more. It only proves you're a pervert and that you rather have that idiot with the winner looks. There is no emotion behind these kinds of things. There shouldn't be.

Sex and love

Just because you say it's different since your asking to have someone's big rooster up your little ass still doesn't say anything about love. Even if you go... you have been craving for that person for the last twenty minutes of your life. It just says you're a fucking homo and that you prefer to take a ride with someone with the same gender rather than busy yourself attracting the opposite sex.

Not that you can even attract the opposite sex with that fucking pink mop on top of your head.

Sex and love

Just because you say I love you in the middle of climax still doesn't imply anything.

You say a kiss should mean something. Lighten up, it doesn't.

You fuck a whore because you want someone to suck the cum off you're your little manhood. And not because of all these loving passion that stirs up in the depth of your soul. For goodness sakes, you take everything and make it look so complicated twisting it with mushy notions of this and that and how it should be. Why are you poisoning my mind with grandeur of love and passion that has never and will never exist?

Not everything needs emotion.

Love does not exist.

It doesn't.

Because... it's hard to let go if you love someone that much.


	7. Shuichi: Rape

_I slip into the darkness, the most satisfied person in the world._

And when I wake up, the bed would be too big. All the radiated warmth gone in a matter of a few minutes, my naked body the only thing weighting on the mattress. Last night was nothing more than another example of lust and passion clashing, running at full speed, losing all control. Last night is reduced to a lie that should never be revealed to anyone else, kept to myself as a token of a bittersweet one night stand.

I sat up, the room so cold and the water bottle he's been drinking lying useless on the floor. My tears fall down and I couldn't help but call myself fool. These stupid things I do for this man whom I have given my heart and soul, receiving nothing but pain and dread in return. I held the blanket over my small chest and feel the pain between my legs.

I feel the disgust taking over me, the shame of being defiled over and over again for desperation's sake. For the unfulfilled desire just to be his number one lover. The sticky sensation crawling between my thighs, hugging the skins of my ass did nothing to comfort me as they stayed to be reminders of last night's pain and pleasure.

Rape

Yuki raped me.

I kept the thoughts out of my head, but they stay there continuing to berate me with rape.

No, Taki Aizawa raped me, not my Yuki, not my love.

He wouldn't stop when I tell him to.

But that was because he thought I liked all of that.

He digs in too deep, his head probing my insides without mercy my head thrown back screaming for dear heavens to save my soul. I tell him not to pull, yet he doesn't listen. Taking it away out of my hole then pushing it back in, again and again like a never ending cycle of pain. It hurts.

The remorse is boiling in the deepest pits of my stomach. My salty testaments staining my once innocent face; why is the pain only here when Yuki makes passionate love to me?

Is it really what he calls 'love making'?

Then why do I not feel the emotions.

The only thing I feel is just the dying warmth in the morning where the space is left empty.

My legs are too heavy, my knees meet and I fall into a hapless heap to the freezing floor. The blanket my only consolation, protecting my naked form for any prying eyes from the essence of him lingering in the air.

My tears left me helpless.

My anguish left me speechless.

My nightmares of rape by a man with beautiful blond hair and amber eyes left me… broken.

When memories force themselves at an unguarded time, they do not tell me of a dirty alley way anymore. I don't see a raven haired bastard carrying a camera with his evil glint shinning in the darkness like it was supposed to.

I see yellow.

I see blond.

I see Yuki.

He wasn't the knight in shinning armor anymore, the way it was supposed to be.

Yuki was the rapist that took away my naiveté in that cold evening.

Yuki was the rapist that took away my dignity in dirty dreams.

Yuki was the rapist that took away my life with his lying butterfly kiss.

Yuki was the rapist who took away my soul then threw it out in with one swift kick as he closed the door... locking up the handle, making sure that I do not stop him from ravishing another woman in our bedroom.

Dizziness takes my head, turning it round and round like a carousel. It goes like a full circle leaving me with a headache that left me weak and in an even more pathetic state.

My shoulders fall and made contact with the ground.

My head follows and it gently rolled the grips of my hand with the blanket loosening.

Our bedroom is nothing more than a blur.

Like static gray on TV that slowly drowns in an ocean of inky black.

My heavy lids began to close.

_I slip into the darkness, my head swimming in an ocean of lies._


	8. Yuki: Flower

This in my hand, is a white rose bud.

One solitary rose bud that had color of the clouds that never take the same shape in the sky.

A single one with a stem that was long and hard. The tip at the end sharp like the thorns that has been carefully cut off so that my lovely child will not hurt himself upon receing this simple gift. The flower is unopened like a present on the even of Christmas day, a seed below the ground that has yet to grow. There was a single leaf on one side glowing green with a few trickles from the day's light shower. Today's bit of rain stained my shirt with a luck that is believed to be good by those who are deemed as dreamers and those who are ignorant of reality.

I am neither of the two, yet I have felt somewhere in my heart a fleeting sensation of satisfaction that could not be destroyed.

My façade held still to my stoic face, even if my whole was caught in a love sick trap I would choose to keep the fact to myself. I have, what my partner so much lacked, pride and I am not in the stage to let it go yet.

I secretly told the rose bud that he will make someone happy today.

The rain told me that a train of good luck might follow my way.

I am writer, but unlike most writers, I am not a dreamer.

I am not a fool.

But I pretended, for at least today, to be an innocent man; a calm being that has never tasted blood before in his entire life, has never killed any other man with his own bare hands.

I was feeling all wonderful for the first time in my life, the smile on my face so wide and serene that I didn't realize I slipped off my mask. My divine one would be on the other side of this door, waiting for me inside this house of ours. When I slip in the key and let the click say that it is unlocked. The boy will be on the other side, standing there with a goofy grin on his face. He might try to knock me out with his hug that chocks one of breath. We'll fall to the ground and he'd still have his arms around me. The rose might be crushed sometime but I'll still give it to him.

He'll be happy, he won't care what new deformed shape the rose has taken.

And maybe I can finally tell him those precious that he has been longing to hear.

I twist the door knob.

And I step in, my only gift hid behind my back. Cliché but it added to brighten up my smile.

"I'm home…"

I stopped at the front, my eyes taking in my dark home. The curtains were all pulled down, not a single stray of light was found, except for the ones spilling by the open door.

Dead silence.

"Shuichi…?" I asked my quiet home. My response was a silent one, only the thudding of my heart beat. I went beyond and trailed within our home in a small quest to look for the boy with the most beautiful eyes.

His name was called out numerous of times, but there was no one and nothing there to call me back. The bedroom door was open with the bed in disarray. The bathroom was empty and was left the way it was, all neat and clean without Shuichi inside. The kitchen held no one, same goes for the living room and for the other remaining areas in the house.

I looked around and found myself running up and down.

Where is Shuichi?

The rose lay forgotten by the door.

The rain outside the window began to pitter patter, telling me of another kind of luck.


	9. Shuichi: Trauma

Tohma never realized how deep the situation was really.

There were times when he wanted it to happen, but he never wanted it to go this way. It was wishful thinking, something to play around in his head. It never went out of his mouth though, not once, not even when he was all alone in his grand office.

Truth be told, he never wanted it to happen. Even to Shuichi.

He was human, for those who are ignorant.

The blond manager thought it was another household spat between the two of them. The usual picture of Shuichi being kicked out with his boyfriend. It wasn't anything new. It wasn't supposed to be.

Just to see how grave the situation was, Tohma decided to step in that room. He barely survived but he did come out alive, sporting a reddening claw like mark on his left cheek. That part of his face was stinging terribly, but even with the burden he carried he remained to part with a stoic features.

Much to his dismay, he can't side on Eiri this time.

**(SPACE HERE)**

That morning, there was a small package waiting for him; just a videotape wrapped in brown paper, a string keeping all of it together. When he ripped the wrapper, he was almost expecting a note to fall. But there wasn't any.

He wasn't surprised to see this, especially being involved in the music industry as he is; there are some people out there who are desperate to get a deal. And in this company, it takes a lot to impress Tohma Seguchi, the person who can make or break them.

The blond Nittle Grasper contemplated for a while, not at the content but how did it ended directly on top of _his_ desk. He shrugged his shoulders. The group must be that be crazy to make a music video then actually have someone (or thing) get it on top of his desk.

In the end, he popped it in the VHS player- there was always one for these kinds of purposes- and pressed the play button on the remote.

For the first ten minutes, the remote in his hand fell with a thud to the floor.

**(SPACE HERE)**

Shuichi looked through the blond manager of NG studios. Wide evening orbs shone with dying light, almost unseen with the clouds of emotions running amok. When he first saw those two eyes, he could actually see holes. There was no more of that shinning passion Sakuma Ryuichi sang about, hell; he almost felt as if the boy lost his spirit, lost his soul.

For one reason or another, he felt like he was staring at the broken window of a dilapidated house.

It scared him that he was forced to look at these expression, and what was worse it had to belong to the bubblegum haired boy.

The last time he saw these eyes, they were dyed in the color of amber.

He was by the door, the distance between obvious.

The pink haired boy did something that very much surprise the man. Shuichi raised his hand, almost as if his body was still calling out for help whilst the look on his face was devoid of any feeling. The manager neared him, only because his feet took him to the boy, they came to life on their own. When he reached the boy, he had to go down on one knee, kneeling for the dazed pop star.

Shuichi looked at him; there was a ghost of a smile hanging by his lips.

He almost heard him say 'Yuki'.

In a flash, Shuichi scratched the man's face.

**(SPACE HERE)**

Walking without noticing the looks of the people around him, his face elicited a trail of whispers behind back.

He opened the double doors to the meeting room.

Nittle Grasper and Bad Luck all looking at him, their faces showing holding answers to the speculation outside.

"He thought I was Yuki"


	10. Yuki: Call

The first thing that passed through Yuki's lips was the yellow sickening taste of warm beer. Without even drinking half, he crushed the can in his hand not only getting it wet and staining his pants, but also attacked the couch and the floor with the drink.

Yuki threw his cell phone away; it hit the wall and cracked to pieces. The batteries detached itself from the communication device and the LCD screen had a streak crossing the monitor.

"_Eiri, I think it be wise of you to stay away from Shuichi" _

"_Bastard, do you think I'm going to fall for that again?"_

"_Who do you think you are? Trying to separate me and Shuichi!"_

The blond stood up and passed his dead phone, dropping the can of beer by the trash that waited for him by the door.

"_I am doing this to protect both sides, it's troubling enough-"_

"_Why do I feel like I've heard that line? Just tell me where the hell is my brat, you fucking prick…" _

"_But more so to protect my company's rising star"_

"_Protect? What do you mean protect? Kidnapping him and doing the whole torture to the boy is not-"_

"_Eiri, listen carefully, the whole of NG studios is protecting him… from you"_

Protecting Shuichi, why does Shuichi need protection? And especially from him, he didn't remember even touching the boy for the last week. How could he be the suspect? What has he done this time?

"_What do you mean protect him from me?" _

"_You bastard… I see, so you're going to keep him away from me? You're jealousy has come quite to an amazing stage" _

"_We've been through this before, what makes you think you can break…"_

"_You talk as if nothing happened"_

"_Yeah, hell something happened, you fucking kidnapped my lover and god knows what you are going to do to him…"_

"_Eiri-san, I never knew you could stoop this low… pretending it never happened at all…"_

"_What the hell are you talking about?! I do not understand all this bull shit!"_

"_What the fuck is going on that has you all going against me? Nothing happened between me and Shuichi! I have been out of the house the whole week"_

He heard that sigh from the phone; it wasn't of relief but more of an exasperated one.

"_Eiri"_

"_Fuck you, Tohma, this has gone too far"_

"_Eiri…"_

"_I am going to the studios right now and I'm taking my brat… and might even consider filing a case against you…"_

"_Eiri…"_

"_I'm going to fucking make sure you get as far away from me and him as possible…"_

"_Eiri, shut up"_

"_What?"_

"_I told you to shut up"_

He was confused; the blond novelist couldn't understand what the hell is happening.

Echoes of his footsteps running across the deserted house, what was going on?

"_Listen carefully, Eiri, Shuichi… he wasn't in a good state when we found him"_

"_That best friend of his who plays the guitar was the one who called from your house"_

"_For two days, he was absent from practices and recordings calling on the phone was just a futile attempt"_

"_It was only when that guitar player actually went over there that he found him in the state that he was"_

Yuki shook his head. He buried his face on his hands and tried to piece together the information that was shoved on him.

None of them fit at all and it was giving him a terrible migraine.

"_I don't understand what you are talking about"_

"_Eiri, Shuichi's not himself anymore… he mistook me as you and tried to hurt me"_

Silence on his end of the phone.

"_What…?"_

"_I wouldn't blame him though"_

"_This is final; do not come near the boy or near NG Studios, you brought this upon yourself. I can't do anything about it"_

With a terrifying final tone to his voice, the phone clicked signaling the end of the conversation.

Yuki was stumped; he could not understand how everything was turning up like this.

What happened to Shuichi that has the whole of NG going against Yuki?

He was in his car, driving through intersections and passing by large buildings. This has to be some trick Tohma was playing, everyone knows the blond manager. He can't be trusted, especially now that he seems to have taken his lovely brat hostage.

"Fucking bull shit I heard all year..."

Back home, the lonely white rose was on the table. The petals have become pieces themselves that slowly fell dying to the cold floor.


	11. Shuichi: Closet

When he was in middle school, Shuichi had the habit of locking himself up when he's scared. Locking himself, inside his closet

It started when bullies from higher levels would terrorize him and a few of his batch mates at school.

Whenever he feels their presence snooping on his tracks, he would usually stuff himself inside a locker. He was a thin boy; there was no hassle in hiding for him.

He was always the brave one between him and Maiko. But only Maiko knew why.

It was his ritual; this was his only tactic and his only escape from school tyranny.

If the sky went booming outside all he has to do was hide inside his closet among his clothes. He didn't have to depend on anyone that way, no one can hurt him and no one has too see him cower away like a leaf falling into a heap in the warm autumn.

He can smile like the eternally shinning sun.

He can cry in front of everyone, without feeling shame.

But he can't show fear to their faces, because he'd be inside his closet before anyone could take a peek.

**(SPACE HERE)**

"Please, Hiro, K… everyone" Maiko smiled pleasantly, the door was not allowed to be opened. She kept the distance small by using the length of the chain that was attached on the door to be the limit of the gap. "Leave Shuichi for a while"

Everyone from NG, were on the other side looking at her with mixed emotions. Even the great Sakuma Ryuichi stood along with them, holding on to Kumaguro without any signs of naiveté on his face.

"Shuichi needs this time alone" the brunette calmly replied the unheard question, "If you love him as much, give him air to breath"

The girl took this opportunity to close the door.

**(SPACE HERE)**

The younger sibling saw Shuichi's unkempt bedroom peeking from the small crack of the door. She walked from where she stood in the middle of the hall, and pushed the wooden frame gently inside.

With the door out of the way, she could see the way the books are not on the shelves but littered carelessly on the floor. There was the blanket with the Kumaguro print lying on about, cottons and stuffed toys all thrown away. Shards of glass, CDs and whatever else that break almost wounded her unprotected feet.

The brown haired girl carefully treaded a path around the pile, listening carefully for a sound.

She went over to Shuichi's closet and slid the door to side.

With her smile made out of love she looked at her famous brother sitting down on the floor. His knees were wrapped tightly with arms that refused to let go, his head holding on to a face with no emotions. His sister went down to level with him, "Shu-chan, you're friends were here"

He didn't say anything.

"I told them to leave for now, but by the next time they come here" she caressed the side of his face, "I think it's time we all talk, okay?"

He didn't give any words.

"Just remember, Shu-chan, we're always here, ne?" She kissed her sibling's temple and held the locked boy in her arms. "Maiko-chan, Mama, Papa, Hiro… and everyone, we're right behind you hear? So you don't have to be afraid"

Glassy tears proceeded to fall down from the pop star's violet eyes.

**(SPACE HERE)**

There was a scar that broke the dark clouds.

There was the rumble that came always comes in delay after the zigzag pattern has disappeared from the sky.

There were the thousands of drops that fell to the earth.

Yuki slammed the door to his car; it was parked right in front of the Shindou's residence.

**(SPACE HERE)**

Maiko left her brother inside his room.

She busied herself with Sakuma Ryuichi's Sleepless Beauty resonating almost silently from her brother's open door. Her hands were wet and she wanted to watch some anime on TV today, but these dishes aren't going to wash themselves.

"Well… there goes Mama's favorite plate… and here's Papa…" she hummed her own made tune, as she carefully stacked the dishes in of the cabinets by the sink.

As she did, she made the mistake of looking out the window as the second thunder laughed out loud in the sky.

Eiri Yuki was going to their front door.

The plate in her hand fell to the floor as she ran away to get to her brother.

**(SPACE HERE)**

"Shuichi… whatever you do… please" she pleaded him, "Do not leave this room"

"Maiko-chan…?"

"Please, stay here okay? Don't go out, can you promise me that?" she begged her sibling, holding his hands as if to pray for a wish. Her were eyes burning for his trust, telling him to ask no questions because answers won't be given.

Without a second thought, the boy agreed.

Maiko gave him an uneasy smile and kissed his two cheeks, then left a final one on his forehead.

"I'll protect you this time, Shu-chan"

He could her eyes watery from an unknown fear.

He could almost feel the shaking of her body, vibrating on their connected hands.

She stood up and went to the door, closing it behind her gently, leaving the boy wondering what was going on.

Shuichi was sitting in the middle of all chaos that surrounded him. Maiko left him with his the radio pelting out tunes from his idol's very first album. He wasn't inside the closet anymore, though he'd rather be kept inside that place than be out on the open once again.

The lightning bolt outside the window failed in evoking some sort of emotion from his hibernating soul.

The pink haired boy's ear picked up something, but it wasn't the rumble of the heavens. No it wasn't.

His violet orbs grew wide as plates, his head forming conclusions that he knew were undeniable.

This pop star found himself rising from the waters of his uncertainty. Then he walked with quick strides to the window.

There was a black car parking outside.

**(SPACE HERE)**

"Open this door, brat!" the blond writer slammed his fist over and over again. "You can't hide away from me forever!"

Maiko was a few meters away from the rattling door, the evidence of Yuki's fury.

She was trembling from head to toe, utterly confused on what to do. Her heart beat began to take great leaps, she was scared for life and she was scared for her brother's welfare.

"Shuichi, did you hear me?!" the angry voice on the other side continued, "Open this fucking door now or I am going to break it!"

"Leave Shuichi alone, Eiri-san!" she tried to protest, finding her voice lost in Eiri's attempts to get in the house.

Without hesitation, Maiko grabbed the phone.

**(SPACE HERE)**

Shuichi found himself backing away from the window, afraid Yuki might see him from outside in the pouring rain. His feet were slow, letting him trip on a piece of stuff toy that he threw away senseless hours ago. The boy landed on his butt painfully, but he didn't mind that.

He could hear the knockings, almost breaking down the door with its force.

There was only one thing he could do, one streak of white creasing the evening's blanket.

The pink haired artist scrambled to the closet with so much speed, tripping all his other things in the process. He succeeded in earning himself a bluish bruise that has appeared on his left shoulder.

He closed the door swiftly, hoping to a made up god that Yuki would leave.

**(SPACE HERE)**

Mika reached for her phone that was vibrating crazily inside her Gucci bag.

She flipped her mobile up, "Moshi, moshi-"

"_Mika-san! Eiri-san is at the door and he won't leave…!" _her bag fell on the floor, a lipstick rolling away with her powder.


	12. Yuki: Fake

Was it all a dream that left its sinister scent as a bittersweet goodbye?

Was it all a nightmare that caressed my face with cold fingertips?

Was it all a hallucination born from heated tension wanting to be released?

Was it all a piece of lying imagination jumping out of the brain to rape the reality?

What do they all mean? Everywhere in this dilapidated soul the smell of vodka lingers on staining strawberry. Eating innocence with malice lighting up the embers in my eyes. My hands traveled up and down the contours of the dear boy's body. His quivering hands were like ice, that tried oh so hard to calm the rampaging bonfire in my soul. But pent up lust and ice never did mix well, with iron force I killed you. With only one of my strong holds, I chained both of your hands together.

The rain outside the window could care less what sacrilegious thoughts ran again and again in my head. This empty bare room, it walls a burning white with me sitting in the center, made up the clandestine world of my mind.

Thoughts popped out of nowhere like ads on the net, my animalistic urges replaying another round for me to remember what I have done.

His body was beneath my burning palms; his long neck was the prey to my vampire like bites. His skin, a carbon copy of pure white milk from a mother's breast, was my hunting ground for fresh meat. My nails clawed at that piece of flesh, leaving red marks of torturous passion on what was once shinning brightly... Shindou Shuichi.

**(SPACE HERE)**

Yuki found himself being pulled away by the neck and without knowing it; he was thrown hard on the wet pavement. The falling rain was dripping hard on his face. As he tried to recover from the sore that his back achieved, he found himself being faced with the not so good side of a Smith and Wesson on the forehead.

"I thought Seguchi had it clear that you are not to go near the boy" K's voice rang clearly in the booming thunder and clap of rain.

"What is wrong with everyone?! I am here to talk to my lover!"

The gun on his forehead remained unmoved, intent on staying put on Yuki Eiri's skull.

"Shuichi doesn't need you to hurt him again"

"What did I do wrong? Tell me, because I don't know what on earth is going!" Yuki cried desperately as he pounded his chest, "I need to know what I did to make him cry, because I can't understand what is going on… what did I do this time!

"You raped him…"

The two blonds looked from behind, and saw another who was blessed with the golden locks on his head. His cerulean eyes were fixed on the one on the ground, his gaze burning angry holes on the author. The third party stood in the rain, just like the other two, without any sort of protection from the rain. All he had was the top hat on his head and the expensive jacket with fur lining running on his chest- all which were getting soaked by the outburst of heaven's own tears.

"What… do you… mean…?"

"I saw it, everything…" Tohma cut without letting the other finish, "And with respect to Shindou, I watched it alone"

"No one else have seen it except for him" K bent his head to the keyboardist's direction, "And with how Shindou's doing, I don't think there is really much of need to watch the whole thing"

Confusion and even more questions were popping inside his head; nothing answered the questions that Yuki wanted to ask. The blond writer's mouth was left gaping, "Watched… what…?"

"The sex tape that was sent to me by some anonymous source… Eiri, you do realize how much damage this will cause?" the manager said. "Especially with the tape, the fact that its source is unknown is unnerving; there is a great risk that it will go out public, on the internet, on some tabloid, on talk shows…"

"Not to mention the emotional baggage and the trauma involved in this, it's not a very pretty picture" their only foreign company added.

"Eiri-san, I already warned you but you refuse to listen"

"Be careful, punk" the gun totting man raised a brow, "I'm not interested in seeing your living and breathing self if it means the vocalist of Bad Luck going into some manic depression of sorts"

Eiri found himself in the middle of two powerful figures, his eyes shifting from left to right. Forget that he was going to get sick with a cold and burning fever in the morning.

Rape, it never happened.

But what produced the tape? It can't have magically dropped from the sky.

Fake

Lies

"I never raped Shuichi"

**(SPACE HERE)**

I should play my role right, and then nobody has to know. If I pretend I wasn't part of it, that I am just a shadow lying behind trailing the bigger body then nobody should really know I did it.


End file.
